


crack

by FakeCirilla9



Category: Narcos: Mexico (TV)
Genre: Blackmail, Drug Use, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Or trying to, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex for Favors, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:00:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23133559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakeCirilla9/pseuds/FakeCirilla9
Summary: It wasn't before Falcon touched him that Miguel understood for sure what the man wants from him
Relationships: Miguel Ángel Félix Gallardo/Alberto Sicilia Falcon
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	crack

It wasn't before Falcon touched him that Miguel understood for sure what the man wants from him. He ignored or brushed off the earlier warning signs, that were there during their entire conversation.

It started innocently enough.

"Maybe he will play with you now? If you ask him." Falcon looked from one of them to the other, trying to gauge their connection.

"I'm here for business." Miguel went with the easiest excuse.

"One doesn't hinder the other. You two can have some fun." Falcon reclined in his armchair comfortably. Did he just ask them to give him a performance? 

He didn't insist, though, when Miguel went to presenting his business plan. That was the first sign he had ignored.

Falcon's eyes never left him, peering sharply over a cigar he played with more than actually smoked. Ringed fingers stroke the parejo absent-mindedly. Dark eyes settled on his torso when Miguel took off his jacket in the too-warm room. Yet being scrutinized so wasn't very alarming. It could be searching for weapons on habit, it could simply speak of wanting to assess a new associate.

Only a hand on his cheek, later on, convinced Miguel he wasn't imagining things.

Fingers petting him just above stubble added a sour taste to the gained victory.

"Okay, Felix, you had convinced me. Welcome to Tijuana." 

The hand slipped to his shoulder in not quite a man-giving-a-support way. Too lingering to be friendly. Too sensual.

He wouldn't speak out of place, they liked to feel they have power over someone and Miguel could stroke their ego. Manipulating from the bottom was efficient. Playing subdued never came hard to him. Cast your eyes down from time to time. Wait for them to speak first. Call them 'boss' enough times.

But now Falcon awaited. Wanting him to speak something.

"Thank you, patrón, we won't disturb your trade."

"Is that all you are willing to offer for your budding empire?"

He didn't stop touching Miguel and now his eyes glinted with desire. The tone of his voice dropped one level down, just on the border of lewd, leaving Miguel no doubts.

"All to just step out of my way? Don't you think this is not enough? That I should get some extras from it? Don't you want to please me?"

Miguel swallowed thickly, his eyes flicked to Isabella who looked to the side, pretending not to see what's going on and obviously knowing all too well. Just how often did the drug lord make such offers to men coming to him in need?

But Miguel was in need and was willing to sacrifice much. From the beginning, he had been prepared to work hard for his success with his mind and body alike, even if he didn't imagine it ever taking such a literal form.

"Yes," he licked his lips, needing to moist the suddenly too dry flesh.

Falcon's eyes were instantly drawn to them. The man leaned in to kiss him.

Miguel let him. Parted his lips on his own accord. Offering but not initiating anything. Leaving the lead to the boss as they always wanted it in everything. This might not be too different from any other aspect of life after all.

Falcon's tongue in his mouth chased off his thoughts and stole his breath.

Seemingly it wasn't so different from an ordinary kiss and yet revolting.

Miguel shuddered. He hoped the other man took it for arousal.

"I knew you could be convincing," Falcon smiled against his lips, too close.

His hand wandered progressively downward. It slid against the material too thin to guard against the heat and the sensation. Falcon's palm stopped only above his trousers' edge to untuck the shirt.

"Lose this cloth," he murmured. "Shoes too."

Miguel pulled it off obediently, white linen landed against the jacket taken off earlier.

He closed eyes at the unbearable heat of the other's gaze on his naked chest. It chilled instead of warming up, making his hair nearly stood on their ends.

He looked at Isabella from beneath his eyelashes. At her perfectly thin waist. Curves at hip and breast. Enhancing skin peering out of the too skimpy outfit. It was red, just like her full sensual lips.

His cock stirred. 

"You had your chance bedding her, boy."

It was disquieting how many details Falcon noticed.

But then he's at him again, fingers ghosting over his skin. The thrill of adrenaline combined with the female goddess at sight was nearly as good as arousal.

Teasing at his chest, stomach, vulnerable underbelly was not as disgusting as it was off-putting. Strange. Unsuiting. But Rafa was building him a plantation in the middle of the desert and he had convinced so many among plaza owners and he's so close to fulfilling his dreams.

What's one more man to debase himself before?

He didn't even ask him to get to his knees. Or be too active. Falcon seemed content with touching and groping a new toy standing still.

The hand slipped under his belt, down the thick hair to grasp at the half limp cock. He hissed. Falcon growled into his ear and Miguel wished he could block the sounds. Music from the club was too faint at the distance to drown Falcon's excited breathing.

The drug lord's hand wasn't as gentle as to allow him to imagine Isabella's graceful hand on himself.

But he could pretend it's his own even if the pressure was not right and it was a bit too dry. Yet if he was tired after a hard day and Maria was not in the mood, he could jerk off just so half-heartedly, quickly, not paying overmuch attention to it.

He could have come with Falcon's hand on his cock if not for the other slipping behind his back, pushing his pants and underwear down decisively. Men fingers - too large and calloused, groping his ass, slipping between, searching - were too much. He forced himself not to flinch away from the touch, but couldn't do much about flagging erection.

Falcon didn't seem to take offense though. 

"Go over there. It'll be more comfortable near the bed."

A hand at the small of his back propelled him forward. Trousers tripped his legs. He wrung feet free of them. Let himself be led to the place.

Isabella, who still sat there, made a move as if she considered getting up.

"Oh no, darling, you stay here." 

Now the plaza lord made him kneel, bend him over the edge of the sofa.

Miguel might not be experienced in how things went between men but it was not hard to imagine. He braced himself against the soft surface. Put his head on it. Waited obediently. Followed Falcon only with his eyes as the other man went to open a drawer near the bed. He took out a tube.

"Want to prepare him, beautiful?" Falcon tossed the item to Isabella over Felix's head.

Himself he crouched next to Miguel, stroke his exposed skin, making it crawl. His touch became a tad possessive now when earlier it was a sick kind of appreciative.

Isabella's dark eyes were focused on the job. She wasn't looking at Miguel, which was unneeded. It wasn't her fault her current boss was a dick.

Now fingers that touched him felt more familiar, more what he was used to even if the next part was something new entirely.

He closed his mouth shut, bit his lower lip to stay silent as Isabella worked him open with care but also a dose of haste.

Falcon's finger at his lips freed the flesh from the bone trap, making his sighs (not whines of pain, no) too loud. 

"Come on, darling, that's not all you can do. Make him feel _good_."

And now fingers changed the angle slightly, focused, rapt, looking for something until one stroke sent sparks from Isabella's filed nails to his cock, making it hard in no time.

Now it was becoming humiliating. Laying there, panting like an animal in heat, with Falcon's hands still lingering all over him with, his presence hovering just behind his back, body leaning to close.

"Enough. Least you make him drift off completely."

Miguel stayed put, watching Falcon removing his soft garments until there was nothing left but jewelry and nothing obscured his hard cock.

"Just a last touch," he said to Miguel as if addressing an impatient lover and not a coerced partner, "you're gonna love it."

Fingers brushed white powder on the desk. Falcon kneeled behind him and suddenly there was a hot breath where Miguel certainly didn't want to feel it. The drug was blown into his system and he knew it wouldn't be long before it started to influence him.

Falcon smeared the rest on his cock probably as his hand was not covered with white, when he grabbed Miguel's shoulder. The other steadied his hip so Miguel couldn't pull away from the pressure of hot hard flesh.

Isabella lit up her cigarette with trembling fingers, looking away from them. Pretending not to see, even though she must have heard his whimper of pain. Miguel was at the edge of begging Falcon to stop, to let him go, his grand plans be damned.

But then the drug kicked in and it wasn't so bad anymore and everything else became enhanced. The light shone brighter, the music played louder, smells increased. Isabella's smoke mixed with her perfume was overwhelming. Falcon's breath nearly tasted with the cigar and tequila. His touch was everywhere, titillating, tickling the sensitive places Miguel didn't know he had. He suddenly felt like laughing so he giggled. Falcon's arms held him, his mouth was at Miguel's ear, hot and wet and irritating hair behind.

"See? Knew you'd love it."

There was a hand on his cock and why did it feel inappropriate before Miguel couldn't fathom. The drag of skin on skin was just right, raising his voice making him tremble.

"You like it, Miguel?"

"Yes."

A laugh reverberated at his chest. Everything was too hot and sloppy. Isabella's palm with red-blood nails swayed in his vision as Falcon rocked him. That place inside him irked again. Pleasurable tension built up. Was the moan Falcon's or his? A thumb crooked at the head of his cock and he was coming, light in the room erupting into blinding white. For the next few moments or entire hours, he was unaware of what's going on. He still kneeled with his forehead pressed to the soft couch, gasping for air as a man washed ashore from violent brine. His heart raced.

Falcon's hand was at his chin again, tilting his head so he could look into Miguel's face, his blown pupils and absent gaze. Falcon's smile was full of indulgence and sharp teeth. His light pat on Miguel's cheek was friendly.

"A lot of work before you yet, Miguel. Enjoy the rest of the party."

He didn't move, hearing the other man cleaning himself up and getting dressed before he left the room. He didn't realize Isabella was still there until she didn't cover his sweated back with his shirt.

"Get dressed."

"Gi'me a moment," he mumbled into the couch.

"Come on, amigo. There are your friends waiting for you, you need to pass them the good news. And I'll show you a shower on the way."

**Author's Note:**

> How is it the first fic with this pairing?


End file.
